


A Rock On Top of the Sand

by AddictedtoMusic12



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Blackouts, Implied/Reference Mouth Sewing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Korekiyo and Kirumi are Goth Icons™, Multi, Not fatal, Reincarnation AU, Slight Starvation, Unconsensual Incest, Vomiting, but people find him creepy, fuck you miyadera, he loves humanity, ish, kinda a, korekiyo and kirumi have fancy conversations, korekiyo can and will ramble about anthropology if you let him, korekiyo-centric, mostly ouma and amami but, oh but wait, ouma’s attached himself to kork, people like to listen to their formal ways of speaking, sad face, she’ll get punted later dw, theres more, wow these tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:45:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddictedtoMusic12/pseuds/AddictedtoMusic12
Summary: The first time it happened, Korekiyo was doing homework for his English class, struggling to differentiate between they’re, their, and there.The sight made him sick to his stomach.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened, Korekiyo was doing homework for his English class, struggling to differentiate between they’re, their, and there. ( _Why was English so confusing?_ ) He had suddenly blacked out, his vision going black for a few seconds. After he seemed to... wake up, the first thing he noticed was the repeated scribbling of the kanji for _sister_ written about seven times in the corner of the worksheet. 

The sight made him sick to his stomach. Turning to go wash his face, and hopefully wake himself up from his delusion, Korekiyo glanced at his bedside clock and had to double take. The clock’s face read half an hour later than it had been before he blacked out. It had felt like a measly few seconds, but had, in actuality, been half an hour? Surely he was hallucinating. 

After washing his face, Korekiyo didn’t spare his homework another glance, instead opting to leave his room to prepare dinner. 

Korekiyo was used to preparing dinner for himself, being forced to care for his own needs—and occasionally injuries— as his elder sister did not care for him as anything but a plaything. Having Tojo there to prepare dinner for him so often was a pleasant and strange surprise.

Reminiscing made the sickly feeling return, and he could feel his skin itching. Rather than listen to his mental urges, he finished descending the stairs to find four of his classmates—Akamatsu, Saihara, Momota, and Ouma—gathered in the common area, idly snacking on food evidently prepared by Tojo while discussing homework. 

Akamatsu noticed him immediately, always having a particular preference for including everyone, and waved. “Shinguuji-kun! Have you finished the homework for English?”

Shaking his head, Korekiyo tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Unfortunately, Akamatsu-san, I found myself having a bit of trouble and ultimately deciding to eat supper before truly delving back into the subject.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but he merely chose to omit some details. He did in fact mean to eat soon before his blackout, so it gave him an extra reason. He also wished to distract himself from the shakily scrawled kanji on his paper, looking as if each stroke took far longer than it should’ve. 

Akamatsu nods, turning back to her group. “We’re having a study group down here if you ever need help! Shuichi-kun here has a knack for this subject!” At the mention of his name, the shy boy pulled the familiar cap that he wore more often than not down, hiding most of his face. 

“I shall keep it in mind.” Korekiyo couldn’t judge the boy. His personal preference for a mask hid remnants of unpleasant memories, allowing him to block them from his mind. 

In the kitchen, Tojo was bustling around, gracefully assembling the evening meal for their other classmates. 

“Ah, good evening Tojo-san. Do you require assistance?”

Tojo looked up, an elegant smile replacing the look of shock and tint of redness promptly. “That will not be necessary, but I thank you for your offer. I am nearly finished, all that remains is Saihara-san’s meal, as it needs special preparations.”

Korekiyo nodded, gesturing to the food placed on the counter. “May I help myself, then, Tojo-san? I see it fit that I do not bother you with serving me yourself as I am already present.”

She nods, smiling gently. “Please, help yourself. I will come collect your dishes later if you would please leave them on the desk placed in the hallway?”

Nodding, the tall man gently acquires a plate and places small portions of food on his plate—both due to the want to leave enough for the larger appetites for his class, and to keep Miyadera from banning him from eating for a week again due to him gaining wait. 

He’s required to maintain a weight of 110 pounds or less, so as to fit into his sister’s standards. 

Ah, there he goes again, thinking about his sister. He needn’t worry about her for now, she isn’t set to visit for another week. He merely must be cautious. 

Nodding once more in thanks to Tojo, he proceeded to his room, holding the glass plate delicately. 

“See ya, Kiyo!” Ouma called after him as he left, a wide grin stretching across the small boy’s face. The Ultimate Supreme Leader had taken a liking to the anthropologist promptly after meeting. Korekiyo did not mind, seeing as he was rarely subject to pranks because of it. He did not understand why Ouma saw it fit to befriend him, but Korekiyo did not mind. So long as sister did not find out. 

Now back in his room, Korekiyo sets the food on the desk and proceeds to pull a small table out from under his bed, and placed a pillow on the ground. 

With his eating area set up, he sat down, thanked Tojo and the many gods for his meal, and began to eat. 

Korekiyo always ate in his room, too fearful to remove his mask in front of others, lest they ask questions. He kept his room dim, no light source other than the bright red from his bedside clock and the Himalayan salt lamp on his desk for a light source for work. He operated his room in almost constant darkness. The layout was imprinted in his brain, and he could swiftly maneuver throughout without issue. He showered in the dark to avoid looking at his reflection without his mask, and could do all of his personal hygiene without looking. 

He had also developed a habit of wearing thick socks and walking on his tiptoes silently. Many people thought him strange for it, but it had helped him then, and he’d done it for so long he couldn’t just _stop_. 

In the middle of eating, Korekiyo once again blacked out, only noticing after it was gone and he had no recollection of what he had been doing for the past few seconds. Or, this time, he suspected minutes. Feeling the table through his bandaged hands, he felt a carving. _100 Friends_. Scratched into the wood a single time. 

He felt bile rise in the back of his throat, prompting him to stand up and quickly make his way to the attached bathroom. Shoving his mask off, he hunched over the toilet, puking up what he had just eaten. 

Shaking, scared, and confused, Korekiyo leaned back on his knees and tore off some toilet paper to wipe his mouth. Flushing the toilet, he gripped the counter and dragged himself to a standing position, knees wobbling as they struggle to hold his—albeit measly—weight. He leaned over the sink, turning on the tap and washing his face once more. Forgoing any elegance, he stuck his mouth under the faucet and greedily drank the metallic water. 

Throat still burning, he shut the water off, wiping his mouth on a towel. He stumbled back to the table, grabbing the plate as gingerly as possible so as to avoid even touching the table. Pulling on a random mask(he was too shaken up to truly pay attention to what he was grabbing, he slipped into the hallway and shakily made his way down the long room. 

At the end of the hallway was a long table that Tojo had placed, indicating that those who may have dishes in their room place them there after being used. Despite not finishing the meal, Korekiyo set the dish down and returned to his room. 

With the remaining slivers of his energy, he managed to shove the table back under his bed and throw the pillow on top of the mattress. He ripped off his mask, hanging it back up, briefly noting it was his black one with red stripes. Pulling off his uniform, Korekiyo draped it over the desk chair and turned off the salt lamp. 

He changed into sweatpants and a large green sweater, collapsing onto the bed with thoughts of blackouts, his sister, and _100 Friends_ racing throughout his mind. 

Korekiyo didn’t fall asleep until 1 AM that night.


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, he found himself scribing words with an unknown meaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for:  
> vomiting  
> implied mouth sewing  
> starvation

Korekiyo woke up at 6 the next day, and nearly destroyed his alarm clock. The loud device forced him awake and into the realm of the living, and he knew if he didn’t get ready now then he wouldn’t have time to later. 

Dragging himself out of bed, he padded over to his closet and pulled a uniform out, along with a jacket. Winter was approaching, and Korekiyo already found himself shivering during classes. 

After dressing, he brushed out his tangled mess of hair, grimacing as it pulled at his scalp. He’d evidently gotten it quite tangled the previous night.

The topic of last night brought fear back, pooling in his stomach. His hands began to shake as he brushed his teeth, taking deep breaths between rinses. His hands rested on the counter, gripping the edge as he leaned over the sink. 

Leaving the bathroom, Korekiyo quickly shoved his unfinished English homework into his bag, crinkling it. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Pulling on the jacket and pulling his bag over his shoulder, Korekiyo quickly slipped on his shoes and glanced at the clock. _7:40_. He had twenty minutes to get to school, so he took his time choosing a mask.

After some time spent deliberating, he settled on one that had cat whiskers on it, approving his choice mentally before finally slipping into the hall, subconsciously taking light steps. 

Due to his living preferences, Korekiyo was unable to see that his eyes sported dark bags, and his hair was still messy despite being brushed. _Oh, dang it. I forgot to flat iron it this morning._ The ends were beginning to curl, and the top of his head had some stray hairs sticking out. The lack of use of a mirror occasionally had its downfalls, but Korekiyo was usually confident enough to prepare himself appropriately. 

Despite his revelation, Korekiyo did not have enough time to spend half an hour wrestling with his thick hair to flatten it, resigning himself to simply have to put up with the disorder. 

“Kiyo!!” 

Ouma’s voice rang out through the hall, startling Korekiyo and causing him to turn just as Ouma leapt at him, knocking them both down. He always did this, and Korekiyo’s thin frame never held him up. 

“Good morni- holy shit you look like, well, shit!” He exclaimed, likely taking in Korekiyo’s messy hair and sunken eyes. 

Sighing, he sat up and shooed the small boy off him. “I did not fall asleep until late, and I was rather out of it this morning so I forgot to tend to my hair. I apologize for its unkemptness.”

Ouma cackled, shaking his head, “Oh, no, don’t worry! Your hair looks nice like this. I know there’s _someone_ who’d appreciate it,” he winked. 

Confused, the anthropologist tilted his head. “Who?”

“Oh! Oh! Maybe even two someones!” Ignoring him, Ouma began walking out of the dorms, and towards the school. Korekiyo trailed slightly behind, listening as the supreme leader placed his arms behind his head and grinned mischievously at him. “Don’t deny it, Kiyo. I see how you look at them.”

Korekiyo was absolutely lost at this point. “Look at _who_ , precisely? You’re spewing nonsense, Ouma-san.” 

Ouma sighed dramatically, turning and swinging his arms. “I’m talking about your crushes on Amami and Tojooo!!” He exclaimed, drawling the ‘o’ sound.

Spluttering and nearly falling on his backside, Korekiyo’s face lit up a bright red, visible despite his layers. “Absolutely not! I do not fancy Amami-san nor Tojo-san!”

“Liar liar, Panta for hire!” 

“Ouma-kun, I’m telling you!”

“Uh-huh! And I’m telling you I know when someone’s lying! I’ve seen the way you look at them, dummy. Don’t worry though, I won’t tell anyone,” Ouma said, snickering at Korekiyo’s affronted expression. “I _am_ going to help you get together with them. I know Amami-chan likes you~”

Korekiyo nearly choked. he began coughing, doubling over and hitting his fist against his chest. “He- he _what_?!”

Ouma cackled again before skipping off, likely to find Saihara. Korekiyo had his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. _Amami-san...likes me? Surely not Ouma-kun was simply lying again._

Clearing his throat, he sighed and pushed the possibly-false information to the back of his mind. Thoughts for later days. Currently, he needed to get to class before he was late. Then he needed to worry about what to do with his English homework. It was crumpled and tossed half-hazardously into his bag, unfinished. He couldn’t ignore it, for his sister would be unpleased if he did not keep his academic scores up. 

So many things to watch over, and yet there was so little of _him_.

———

The first three periods of the day breezed by, throwing Korekiyo for a loop when the bell chimed, signaling that it was time for lunch. 

Ouma had decided that he’d bother Amami, Shuichi, and Akamatsu today, giving Korekiyo a breath of..calmer air. Not fresh, as he didn’t mind the boy’s wish to befriend him, he merely needed time where he could be alone. 

Disregarding the thought of food, he gathered his things and headed for the library, planning to finish his assignment, despite its wrinkled quality. 

The library was blissfully silent, drawing a sigh as he relaxed within its walls. Securing a lone table, towards the back of the second floor, he set down his things and fished the offending paper out of his bag, along with a pen. 

He quickly scrawled our lines over the ragged kanji, hiding the written words he’d written whilst unaware. Other than the frustrating wrinkles in the paper, he completed the assignment with fifteen minutes of their lunch period to spare. He reached down for his bag, intending to re-read his favorite book on Greek mythos for the remainder. At least he had tried, before his mind went blank while grabbing his pen to put it away. 

The blackout ended quickly, and only a minute at most had passed in real time. the only thing that indicated something had changed was the ink on his bare hands—he’d been too distracted to wrap them today, but no one mentioned it luckily— reading _Locked_. 

Korekiyo felt his throat burn, and he quickly tossed everything into his bag, racing out of the library and to the nearest restroom. 

Luckily, or maybe less so, no one was inside the restroom he threw himself into, dry heaving into the toilet. With nothing to expel, his body merely convulsed with the painful burning and gagging for ages. 

Briefly, he registered the bell ringing for students to go to class, but his body wasn’t done getting rid of something that wasn’t there. What does it mean? Locked. What was locked, and did he want to know?  
He wasn’t particularly sure. 

By the time he finished heaving, his body was exhausted and his lack of muscles kept him from moving his underweight body more than two inches to get his face off the revolting toilet seat. Curled up on the ground, he felt tears welling up in his eyes, but not falling. 

He fell asleep just like that, hair splayed out messily around him. 

“Dude, this kid fell asleep in the bathroom!”

“He doesn’t look so good...Tanaka, can you go get Mikan?”

“I shall be back momentarily.”

Korekiyo awoke to two faces hovering over him, startling him. He flinched upright, scrambling away. He wasn’t in the stall anymore either, instead propped against the wall. “Who- where- what happened?”

One of the boys, thin, like him, with white hair and soft eyes raised his hands up defensively. “Hey, you’re still in the bathroom where you—seemingly—passed out. We found you and moved you away from the toilet.”

Korekiyo nodded, his hair falling into his face messily. The flat ironing from the previous day was completely gone, leaving it curly and disorderly. 

“Yeah, you’re stupidly light. Neither of us here, nor Tanaka, are too strong. But moving you was like moving a pebble.” The other one, much, much shorter than the white haired one, sporting a curly pompadour and a..chef hat said, not even crouched down. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “You two...you’re class 78, right?”

Just as they were about to answer, two people rushed through the door. Someone with grey, nearly black, hair with white streaks walked in, followed by an extremely nervous girl with choppy purple hair. 

“Komaeda-kun? Tanaka-kun said someone needed- someone needed my aide?” 

Studying the four intensely, Korekiyo felt less like a weak boy who had momentarily just been puking up nothing, and more like a quizzical animal studying the ways humans act. It was his interest in others that brought about his Ultimate Talent, after all. 

Komaeda, presumably, answered. “Yeah, we found him passed out in a stall. Looked pretty sick.”

The girl immediately hurried forward, checking him over. She felt his forehead, asked him questions such as “are you lightheaded,” or “do you feel nauseous” to which he answered yes to both. She asked him to remove his mask, but he shook his head and she left it at that. 

“I’m gonna..I’m gonna take him to the nurse’s office. They have more tools for this. Can you stand?” she asked, most traces of her stutter disappearing as she became serious. 

Humming, Korekiyo lifted himself to his feet, using the wall as a support. His limbs felt detached from his body. 

Komaeda and the other two helped him along, wrapping his arms around their shoulders as the short boy rambled about things. 

Everything felt distant, as if it wasn’t happening. He glanced over to Komaeda on his left, and saw his hand. Wincing, he dug his nails into his palm. This drew a hiss as they were sharp, something Miyadera had always instructed him to keep up with. He usually wrapped his hands to protect the nails from breaking, saving him from his sister’s wrath. 

No one said anything for a while, save for who he’d gathered was the Ultimate Cook. 

The nurse’s office was equally quiet, only brighter and cleaner. The girl introduced herself as Mikan Tsumiki, the grey haired boy as Gundham Tanaka, and the short one being Teruteru Hanamura.

“Shinguuji-san, you said you were throwing up but nothing was actually expelled, correct?” Tsumiki asked. He nodded, and she chewed on her lip. 

“Can- can I ask you to stand on this scale? I need to check something.”

Complying almost immediately, Korekiyo listened to the Ultimate Nurse’s request, standing on the scale and watching as she looked at it in growing alarm. 

“Shinguuji-san, you weigh 105 pounds. That’s _severely_ underweight.”

Of course, he knew he was rather light. But what Korekiyo didn’t realize was how light he actually was. Yet, despite being aware of the unhealthiness, all he could feel was relief. Relief that he wasn’t too heavy for sister’s preferences. Relief that he wouldn’t be punished and starved. That he’d keep that needle away from his mouth once more. 

A hand waved in front of his face, stubby fingers wiggling. “Hello? Earth to Shinguuji.” Hanamura sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Ah, I must apologize. Thank you for your concern, but I really must be returning to class now-“

“Classes ended an hour ago.”

“My dorm, then.” Korekiyo dragged himself to his feet, holding himself upright long enough to grab the things that Hanamura had graciously brought with them and stagger our of the room, out into the hallway. 

105 pounds. _Yes, sister would be pleased indeed_.


	3. iii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rantaro knew something was wrong with Shinguuji.

Rantaro knew something was wrong with Shinguuji. The anthropologist looked very tired recently, and had been getting sick often. He spent less time observing their classmates like he loved to do, and more time in his room. Rantaro didn’t know what the interior of his room looked like, but there likely wasn’t enough to interest an anthropologist as being surrounded by ultimates could. 

“Tojo-san,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “Has Shinguuji-kun eaten today?”

Turning around, Kirumi Tojo have a soft smile. “Not yet, no. I was just about to bring him soup or something akin to it, as I hear he isn’t feeling well.”

“Ah, I can take it to him once you’re finished, if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Amami-san. I appreciate it, as I have many things to do today.”

Rantaro chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Ouma-kun giving you a run for your money again?”

She sighed, nodding. “I’m afraid so. He’s asked for me to clean his room, fold his laundry, and make a rather large lunch. I also have tasks from Chabashira-san and Angie-san.”

Letting out a low whistle, Rantaro pushed himself off the wall. “Jeez, you sure you can handle all that? I know you’re the Ultimate Maid and all, but it’s still a lot to have to do in such a small timeframe,” he said, patting her on the back as he reached for a glass from the cupboard. 

Tojo sighed, giving a small smile and shaking her head. “It is my duty to serve you all, and I do not mind this workload.”

Rantaro shrugged. “Just let me know if you need help,” he laughed. With a glass of water, he took the tray holding Shinguuji’s soup and began his trek upstairs. 

“Ooh! Amami-chan, who’s that for?”

Ouma ran up the stairs behind him, trying to peek at the food.

“Shinguuji-kun hasn’t eaten today, so I’m bringing him something because he isn’t feeling well.”

Ouma pokes his own cheek, pouting. “Kiyo’s not feeling well and no one told me..how mean..”

He shrugged, hefting the tray up higher. “If you want to come with me to check on him, you can.”

“No, I’m okay! Have fun taking care of your crush, Amami-chan!”

Ouma skips away, leaving Rantaro spluttering and red-faced. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!” he shouts, not receiving a reply. 

Sighing, he continued down the hall until he reached Shinguuji’s door. Shifting the tray to one arm, he knocks. 

“Who is it?” a gravelly voice calls from inside. 

“Ah- It’s Rantaro, I brought you soup.”

The door clicks open, and Shinguuji is standing before him, hair pulled back in a bun. His eyes were sunken in, and he was terribly pale. Despite his y’all stature, the sweater seemed to swallow him whole. 

“Thank you, Amami-san.” Shinguuji says, nodding at him. If Rantaro glanced past him, he could see the room was pitch black. 

“Are you...able to see what you’re doing in there?” 

“Well enough, yes. Thank you for the soup, once again.” He took the tray from Rantaro’s hands, nodding again before closing the door with his foot. 

“Text me if you need anything, Shinguuji-kun!”

———

Once the door had closed, Korekiyo hurriedly set the tray on his desk, his arms beginning to shake from the weight of the soup. 

He was still thankful, though, because he hadn’t left his room to eat that day. Too preoccupied with the ink on his desk, if he was honest. 

_Sister_ , it read. Once more, he had felt bile in the back of his throat but forced it down.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he sat down at his desk to eat. The carvings were too fresh, too much of a sore spot at the moment. 

What is wrong with him? What do these messages mean, and why does he keep writing them while blacking out?

His sister _terrified_ him. Disappointing her, making her angry, they never brought good outcomes. He hadn’t been over the weight limit in two years, but he still winced when his scars were pulled at. 

Okay, now he _really_ needs to eat. No more thoughts about the creepy writing until after he finishes the soup. 

The soup was good, likely made by Tojo. Korekiyo would need to thank her later. 

Speaking of other people, Amami had seen him with his hair in the messiest bun it’s even even touched, wearing a sweater three times too big, and sweatpants. _Oh god, Amami had seen him looking that messy_ , he could never look him in the eye again. No one had ever seen him wearing anything but is uniform or the clothes his sister makes him wear in public.

Leaving the tray on the desk, Korekiyo moves the mattress on his bed enough to expose the recently-cut hole in his box spring, with the surrounding springs removed. He had made this area a couple days prior, when he realized he needed a place to be truly alone. It made for a good impromptu hiding spot. 

Climbing into the exposed hole, he moves the mattress back in place and curls up inside, pulling a blanket he had placed inside over himself. 

———

Hours later, Korekiyo wakes up to a loud banging on his door. Dragging himself out of the..hidey-hole, as some may call it, he trudged over to the door feeling even worse than he already was. 

“Yes?” he asks, opening the door. In front of him stands Amami, along with Tojo. 

The first one to speak is Tojo, as Amami is staring at him. “We came up here to check in with you, as Amami said you were looking rather sickly earlier. Did you finish the soup you were brought?”

Pulling his attention away from Amami’s gaze, Korekiyo turns to face her. “Ah, yes. I did finish it. I appreciate the forethought, as I had yet to eat before that.” Amami’s face was beginning to flush up a concerning amount. “Amami-san? Are you alright?”

Snapping out of his trance, he turns a brighter red before nodding. “Just peachy! You, though, don’t seem to be as well. Are you running a fever?”

Korekiyo frowned. “No, I don’t believe so. You may check if you wish, but I doubt this is anything to be concerned about.”

Tojo took initiative and pulled off her glove, pressing the back of that hand to his forehead. “You don’t seem to be running a fever, but Tsumiki-san informed me earlier that she, Komaeda-san, Hanamura-san, and Tanaka-san all found you collapsed in the boy’s bathroom the prior day.” Tojo pulled her hand back, putting her glove back on. “She also raised the concern that you are severely underweight. Have you been eating properly, Shinguuji-san?”

Confused, Korekiyo tilted his head, a curly strand of hair falling in his face. “Yes, I believe so? My weight is at a perfect area, and Sister will surely be pleased with it..”

Amami frowned, as did Tojo. “I-I see. Well, we apologize for bothering you, Shinguuji-san. We will be on our way now.”

Waving a confused goodbye, Korekiyo closed the door and tucks the hair behind his ear. He’s not underweight, of course not. anything past 110 is overweight, so 105 pounds surely isn’t underweight. 

Why did they seem so concerned?


	4. chapter iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People need to eat, and Korekiyo’s no exception.

“What the fuck makes him think that 105 pounds is healthy for a sixteen-year-old who is _literally over six feet tall_?” Rantaro said, standing in the kitchen as Tojo prepared dinner for their classmates.

Sighing, Tojo shook her head. “I do not know, but it is very alarming. I knew Shinguuji-san had always been rather thin, but he usually ate well. I had assumed that it was merely how he carried the food, or he had a high metabolism..”

Rantaro groaned, slumping and placing his cheek against the cold counter surface. “I just wish I knew how to help him, but it’s _Shinguuji-kun_ we’re talking about. He’s stubborn as a rock,” he sighed, frowning.

“For now, all we can do is support him as best we can. Be there for him.”

“Yeah.”

———

With confusion from earlier lingering in his mind, Korekiyo sighed and walked into the attached bathroom. His routine was as usual, but he blacked out for an unknown period of time while in the shower. When his consciousness had returned, his finger was pressed to the cold tile wall, and the water had run cold. 

He was thankful for how used to living in the dark he was. 

Once dressed in his usual casual uniform, though he excluded the hat, as dinner should be ready soon, Korekiyo left his room with near-silent footsteps. 

“Move, degenerate!” A voice exclaimed, yet whispering. A glance behind him revealed Chabashira holding an unconscious Yumeno on her back, and giving him a malicious glare. He quickly sidestepped, moving out of her way with a respectful bow. 

“Good evening, Chabashira-san.”

“At least some degenerates have manners...also, it can’t really be classified as ‘evening’ anymore.”

Korekiyo tilted his head, a curly strand of hair falling into his face. He seemed to have missed a spot when his thoughts were straying. “What time is it, then?” he asked. 

Chabashira frowned. “Probably around.. 11 at night? Himiko-chan fell asleep in my room so I was bringing her back to her dorm.”

“I see...thank you, Chabashira-san. Good night.”

“Tch, degenerate,” Chabashira grumbled, continuing her walk to Yumeno’s dorm. 

Korekiyo, on the other hand, ventured down to the common room and kitchen. He had about five pounds in leeway, so he could afford to have something indulgent tonight, so long as he didn’t have an extensive breakfast. 

He found Tojo in the kitchen, clearing some dishes. “Ah, hello Tojo-san.”

Tojo turned around from the sink with a small smile, but it seemed forced. Her eyes flit to something behind him momentarily, and the smile became slightly more genuine. Slightly smug, one might say. 

“Hello. Are you still feeling ill?” She asked. 

Korekiyo shook his head. “I bathed and it seemed to have helped a lot. I’m afraid I must ask you for assistance though, as I seem to have missed dinner. Apologies.”

Tojo laughed quietly. “There’s no worry, I was merely cleaning up the remaining dishes. Is there anything in particular you would like to have?”

Korekiyo tapped a bandaged finger against his chin, before humming. “Katsudon sounds _delightful_ , if it isn’t a bother.”

Already assembling the ingredients with practiced motions, Tojo nodded. “If you wait in the common room, your food will be ready within the next half hour.”

Nodding, he left with a bow and sat down on one of the loveseats in the common room, grabbing a random book off the pile on the end table. 

“Oh! Kiyo, what’re you doing? You’re usually never out of your room after 10,” a voice called out, and Ouma leaned over the back of the seat as best as he could. Korekiyo wouldn’t be surprised if he was standing on his toes. 

“I missed dinner, so I came and requested Tojo-san prepare me some while she was still awake. Would you like me to read to you, Ouma-kun? It’s been a while since you last asked.”

Ouma’s grin widened, and he nodded, plopping himself on the couch next to Korekiyo’s chair. “Okay! But after, we’re talking about your little crush on the avocado, noodle man.”

Oh dear, Ouma really wasn’t going to let his tiny attraction to Amami go. He regretted confiding in him, despite the fact that he’s one of the few people who would listen. No matter, he had a story to tell and a small teenager to appease. 

The story Korekiyo chose to tell, this time, was the story of Perseus, from Greek folklore. Tojo brought out his food about halfway through the story, but stayed to listen. Taking quick breaks between sentences to take bites, Korekiyo ended up finishing his food, and the story, before midnight. 

Ouma looked about ready to pass out, fortunately, and trudged off to his dorm without another word, sparing Korekiyo from interrogation. 

“Shinguuji-san, I couldn’t help but hear Ouma-san mention something about an attraction to someone I can only assume is Amami-san. If you wish to tell someone about it without..fear of tease, I am here,” Tojo said, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed daintily and looking at him with a soft smile. 

What little of his face flushed, but Korekiyo recovered with a cough. “I...seem to have found myself with a particularly romantic interest in Amami-san, yes.”

“And?”

“And...I, quite frankly, don’t know how to handle this information. My sister doesn’t take kindly to me having these sort of attractions, and I’m worried she may get upset if she found out. This is why I’m determined to keep this at the back of my mind,” Korekiyo sighed, his perfect posture slipping for a millisecond before he forced himself to correct it. Sister would not be pleased if he wasn’t the epitome of elegance. 

Tojo looked taken aback. “I..see. I’ve been meaning to ask about your sister. You mention her often, what is she like?”

Eyes lighting up, Korekiyo leaned forward. His mask obscured his smile, but he knew Tojo knew it was there. 

“She’s amazing. Our parents both died when I was a mere child, but she took care of me. She made sure I was never unhealthy, be it through weight or attitude, and always found ways for me to repay her kindness when I asked,” He said, barely taking time to breathe. 

“Sister’s actually visiting me soon, if you would like to meet her, Tojo-san.”

Tojo grimaced, but nodded. “That would be lovely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tojo knows something isn’t right


	5. v.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so late!!  
> like. really late.

It’s been days since Korekiyo had more than four hours of sleep in one night. He’s been plagued by nightmares of being suspended by rope and spun rapidly for hours, and sometimes he’s dropped into boiling water. 

He also has nightmares about murdering two people, though the two are always represented by shadowy figures. 

Waking up after a mere two and a half hours, Korekiyo groaned and rubbed his eyes. Next to him, his phone buzzed with a text. 

_Sister: Oh, Korekiyo, I am so excited to see you today._

That’s right. Ever since setting up a dorm system, Hope’s Peak Academy has also created visiting days where family members are allowed on campus instead of having to meet people off the school grounds. Korekiyo was excited to see his sister again, though he felt dread in his stomach for an unknown reason. Surely he had nothing to worry about, she wouldn’t try and be as intimate as usual in public, people tend to find it disturbing. 

Korekiyo wouldn’t say he was always happy to do some of the acts Sister wanted him to, but he did them nonetheless because it made her happy. 

He doesn’t know what he’d do if he upset his Sister. 

A knock echoes throughout his dark room, and Korekiyo’s joints pop as he stands up, eliciting a soft groan. “Who is it?” he calls, standing by the door. 

“Hey stick dick, the gremlin sent me to get you. He’s offering $15 for you to scope out people’s family members,” Miu Iruma’s voice travels through the wood, and Korekiyo contemplates his options. 

“I would have to ask if Sister is willing to tag along, but tell him I charge $25 minimum and he knows it.”

Miu’s cackles are loud, no doubt reverberating throughout the hall. “Sure, Snakekiyo!”

Now that he’s free from the vulgarity, Korekiyo mentally prepares himself to turn his light on for once and make sure his room is perfect. 

The fluorescent lights are a bright white, forcing him to squint quickly and analyze his room with minimal vision. While spending days in the dark has drastically improved his night vision, it’s also deteriorated his vision in the light. 

The room seems to be in near perfect condition, the only stains on its perfection being the scratches in the kotatsu table he never put away, and his presence. Quickly organizing the kotatsu in its proper place under his bed, he quickly looked in the mirror to check his appearance. 

Realizing that he is indeed still in his sleep clothes, he thanks whatever god that may be listening that he did laundry the day prior. Or, rather, Tojo-san did it for him. 

Untying the ribbon that kept his hair in a messy bun, he began brushing out any tangles that may have formed overnight. 

Once his hair was as smooth and sleek as normal, he pulled his sister’s favorite outfit for him out of his wardrobe and began to put it on. 

The bedroom lights were shut off once more before he left the room, giving him a couple seconds of reprieve. 

Visitors were forced to wait by the school gates until the student they were there to see came to verify their presence. 

His phone jingled with a message. 

_Sister: Where are you?_

_Me: I am on my way outside. I will be there shortly._

_Sister: Don’t keep me waiting._

He picked up his pace, for good measure. 

——————

His sister’s familiar stature approached him as he waited. 

“Korekiyo, oh my sweet brother..” she said, wrapping her arms around him, “how I’ve missed you so.”

“I’m happy to see you as well, Sister.” It sounded rehearsed. It was. 

Despite throwing him an arched eyebrow, his sister payed no mind. “Well, why don’t we go see this dorm of yours?” It was phrased like a question, but it was nothing less of a command. Korekiyo was merely her pet, her plaything. 

Nodding, he mechanically led her to the class 79’s dorms, waving to Rantaro alone, despite Kirumi and Miu being present. He mustn’t make his sister angry. He mustn’t. 

Sister opened his door first, an odd but ignorable detail. Flicking on the lights, she began inspecting. Korekiyo was left to get used to the harsh lights that are installed in the rooms. 

“You’ve decorated this place beautifully, my sweet Korekiyo,” Sister said, the only indication that she was finished. “Do you have a scale in here, or must we venture down to the nurse’s office?”

Shaking his head, he opened the door to the attached bathroom and gestured at the floor. “Right in here, Sister.”

“Good, now take off your clothes.”

Korekiyo did as he was told, removing layers of clothing. Folding the articles neatly, he set them on the counter before turning around and facing his Sister. 

She was staring at him, and while it plagued him with unease, she didn’t do anything. He knows the marks on his body are signs of her love, each and every scar. even the larger circular ones around his mouth from needles. Those were there because he didn’t do as he was told. 

He stepped onto the scale, staring down at the numbers as they calibrated. It neared 108 pounds, and he let out a sigh of relief. The breath caused him to shift his balance, and the shift sealed his fate. 

111.3 pounds. The color drained from his already pallor face. No, no no no no no he watched his weight so carefully. 

“Korekiyo.” The voice filled him with dread. 

He stepped off the scale, head tilted down. “Yes, Sister.”

She frowns at him. She was angry, she was upset, he was going to reopen those scars and he didn’t want to, he desperately wanted forgiveness. 

But Korekiyo knew better than to beg. Pulling his clothes back on, he slipped his mask on and turned around. He kept his head down, trying his damndest to lessen the punishment. 

“Wear are your supplies?” He was instructed to keep punishment tools in his dorm, but he had hoped she would not need them. 

Korekiyo pulled a needle, thread, and some alcohol wipes out of the bathroom cupboard. He quickly sanitized the needle and his face, knowing his Sister wouldn’t do it. 

She stared at him, the gaze heavy and commanding. “Come here.”

He complied. Korekiyo was terrified, it had been a while since he had needed to do this. He wasn’t used to the pain anymore. 

The moment the needle pierced the already thick scar tissue, he bit down on his tongue to force down the scream. His eyes were watering, and he couldn’t stop that, but he could keep other people from hearing his pathetic cries. These walls aren’t soundproof, the things he hears from Miu’s room attest to that.

At about halfway through, Korekiyo felt the familiar signs of the evermore common blackouts. Panicking, he tried to warn his Sister, but the process was far along enough that he couldn’t form coherent words. Just vague sounds. 

Just as his vision went dark, he heard his Sister whisper a vague, threatening, message of love. It pushed him over the edge. 

When Korekiyo’s vision returned, he was standing in his bathroom, alone. Something was running down his hand, warm and thick. His Sister was nowhere to be found, and a look outside the window told him it had gotten dark. This is the longest time he’s blacked out. 

Looking down in a daze, he notices the liquid he felt was blood, and in the palm of his left hand was shaky kanji reading _Bludgeon_. A chill ran down his spine. Why bludgeon? While all of the other scrawlings he’d made were creepy, they’d all been nonsensical. But for him to think _bludgeon_ while being punished by his sister left a very, very worrying taste in his mouth. 

Speaking of his mouth, he couldn’t move it. He wouldn’t be able to eat until his sister permitted him to remove the threads. There was crusted blood around the holes, and he needed to clean up. 

His hair was getting wavy again, having spent too long flattened that the effect was wearing off. Walking over to his sink, he took in the sight of himself in the mirror. Blood was either dried or still dripping around his mouth, and when he went to wipe it, he made it worse by spreading it and leaving the blood from his hands there. 

Overwhelmed, Korekiyo didn’t know what to do. So he sat down on the cold tile floors, and wept.

**Author's Note:**

> I know i missed last week’s update, and this one’s a little short, but i refuse to miss this week too
> 
> have some stuff from another pov!


End file.
